"callback" poems
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Application. Audition. Tryout.
Interview. Callback. 2nd Round Tryout
Interview. Callback. 3rd Round Tryout.
Interview. Callback. 4th Round Tryout.
Interview. Callback. 5th Round Tryout.
Interview. Callback. 6th Round Tryout.
REJECTED. REJECTED. REJECTED.
No matter how hard I try to put myself out there
to get my foot in the door,
I always end up on the outside looking in.
I can’t seem to get out of this cycle.
I can’t take this anymore.
When will I get my big break?
Not anytime soon.
With all of this rejection that I am getting,
it’s tough to put myself out there.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
Psychopath, questioned and played with, complex mind games with
Paper fortune tellers and crystal ***** utilized by con artists.
Chrome decorated room filled with trippy, grippy, grabby men
With blue cats swimming around their head. Coherent words do not exist to them.
Sucrose breaks you down, sweet creature, and thieves the antimatter in your empty scull.
Your favorite song no longer passes through your hollow ears.
Notes and the beats... A heartbeat. The thrum of a low piano key in a house supposed
To be isolated and abandoned. You are not alone here, child.
The demons summoned her because of the lettered board between a mattress
And box spring. The springs are broken from too much activity,
Don't jump on the soiled mattress. That's how you receive punishment.
But one without two does not match the storybook your mother read to you.
The nauseating tale of role,play and ********** Everyone knows the story, seen the Disney.
You can run, but you can't hide from the memories of horrible visions
Given to you by the gods. Hold on, child. You will grow to be a man one day
Despite the nightmare of being a wolf child who clawed his way out of his mothers womb.
Jolt and sweat, forgotten top bunk , and a concussion;
The dreams are back. The recurring realities of a twin long lost, but somehow inside.
Dream catchers don't make the callback list, can't act for the life of them, but
They are beautiful against the scenery.
A porcelain doll holds the demon that hacked my system and took controll of my history,
And once again, she takes my place, fooling everyone into thinking I am here
When, in reality, I am buried six feet under.
Blood dribbles from the letters chilled into my stone, I curl and let them add more letters into
My back to symbolize the life I led. The collection of poems I wrote about you are the ones they
Cut into the skin on my legs, permanent reminders of what I have felt.
"What have you felt?"
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 10:13 AM UTC
I don’t want to talk to angels,
Not for me, the bleeding priest.
I want my ****** doctor
So I can find some peace.
I want a ****** expert,
Not a hippie with some tea,
Charging excess for the karma,
And no money guarantee.
I can’t take ****** ginger,
It brings me out in hives,
And you can take the Echinacea
And stick it with the chives.
I want the ****** doctor,
Tired eyes and cynic smile,
Who’s seen it all before
And has my details on his file.
Pull out your cold machines,
Test me to the hilt;
Try to find what’s wrong with me,
Before I ****** wilt.
I don’t want to wait for callback,
I’m not interested in online;
It’ll only tell me that I’m dead,
Dying,
Or I’m fine.
Apr 2, 2023
Apr 2, 2023 at 4:53 AM UTC
I was always told to hold onto hope if nothing else
So, I hoped I would make it to hollywood
But I never got my callback
And I lost a little hope
I hoped to meet my idols
But I turned out to be another face in the crowd
And so, I lost a little hope
I hoped someone would stop and see behind my mask
But everyone kept walking
And I lost a little hope
Now, I just hope to make it through a day
But everything keeps falling apart
And I realize I've lost hope
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
*Oh! Heaven no back path
To Hell*
Those down days bills
No Jack and Jill
Up for love of Venus
Going down memory lane
Here's to our future
Arthritis*
*The love walk special
treatment
Guilt with love
resentment staying
resilient
Washed up Queen
Parliament**
OH! hey RIP__to VIP
Who named my plot
Calling all girls last shot
Is anyone Up For Love
lovesick from your Ex
Or the Fed Ex trucks
A big kick in the pants
"Backing Up" words
We cannot hold
them forever___
They swing like Tarzan
Good posture "Mighty Jane
Yes we have" Bananas
Where to elope
Getting licked through the envelope*
Watch your back
Engraved love
impression
Love is healing
Do you want to know
a secret confession
Backing up Love Gods
*Strawberries eye patch
Stay loyal that's a match"
Not getting your money back
I'll be back but he's not
coming back
I'll back your
Wedding steps*
"I Cloud" backup
just ******
* Recovery file back up*
Slingback Stress-free
Wearing low back
The camel-back coffee cup
Android never avoid callback***
I wish I was back
Pat on the back praise
Top notch raise
Tree grows in* Brooklyn*
How can I back the world up
On a tablet Duracell
Goes on and on message
Can be a bad habit?
Somewhere over the
"Rainbow Hobbit"
Being a servant a butler
Your personal trainer
True lover four leaf clover
Or writers block
Is love always by the clock
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 9:52 AM UTC
Love Function
Love function.m
----------------------------------------------------------
*function *** hopeful (pain, pleasure)
% xxx A romp through the meadows below
% perceived as a token invitation to
% the gates of heaven and hell back, enjoyed.
xxx.plans=...
['kiss', 'touch', 'play';
'hug', 'grope', 'nookie'];
duration= 45.00;
awk.silence= 480.00*pleasure;
rest= 0:1/pain: duration;
love = [ ];
for i= 7:length(pain)
pain = pleasure (u);
if (pleasure= 'kiss' && pain= 'touch' && pleasure= 'play' && pain= ''grope' && pleasure= 'hug' && pleasure= nookie')
%checks for comfort
continue
end;
[ii,uu] = find(pain==pleasure);
moan = cos(2pipain(ii,uu)duration) + cos(2pipleasure(ii,uu)*awk.silence);
love = [love, hate(2,awk.silence), callback]
end;
maybe(yes,no);
relationship(love);
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
I am a minor miner girl
Living in a go and get 'em world
We come in by the dozens
And I think you all know how this story goes
I try to please everyone around me
Forgetting what's important
And as we all know that isn't the best
I should use my mind more often
To guard my sooty heart
All you other minor miner girls know what I'm saying
But I love and I love and I love
Never stopping to think of the consequences
Sure to follow
I just dive in heart first hoping to not hit the ground
And minor miner girls you know it's true
We try so **** hard
And we always fall
Straight on through to the hellish pain that awaits
I'm sorry if I upset you
My dear fellow minor miner girls
But we need to grow up
And we need to exhibit some sort of conceit
Not to the point of egotism and bigotry
Just to the point of safety
To the point where we aren't always stepped on
And can roll in the Major Miner Girls league
I love you all
Because that's who I am
But as by unspoken and now finally written law
We minor miner girls abide by
I'm still learning to love myself
So minor miner girls
Raise your pickaxes and your shovels
Toss off your hardhats
Because we are about to rumble with
The world outside our mine
We will be
Major Miner Girls
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 11:45 AM UTC
The scary thing about
how time heals
is that I forgot
the only person I wanted to remember.
I force myself to be okay with that.
I started to lose
all the details about her, all the fights I knew I'd lose
before the arguments began, because I couldn't stand to think about
her being upset with me. I was quick to let her think that
the tension between us healed
that neither of us could remember
the reason we were fighting in the first place. I forgot
her coffee order when she's sad, I forgot
how she freaked out when she lost
the callback to someone we despised. I forgot how she remembers
that I counted how many chicken nuggets I ordered. She was all about
knowing the little things that kept me at ease, that healed
my stress away from her. But then I knew that,
with the poison I kept on the tip of my tongue, that
would be impossible. She tended to forget
even though she was the one to heal
me emotionally when no one else could, she would lose
me at the same time with disappointment. It was not her fault. About
four years now, I'm still alone in pictures. I remember
that we were always together in a single frame. I remember
I kept my mouth closed and she smiled with her teeth. That
passenger seat remained empty, beneath a full moon about
to transform into new. Once I forget
eclipses only last a few hours, I lose
the nostalgia that never did get me healed.
Replaying my memories will not heal
what I once had. I will not remember
everything I thought I'd never lose.
Once it hits, I am on the floor, pressing into the cold tiles, so close that
I can reimagine her skin, and I will never forget
all of the things I thought about.
I believe she can no longer heal me and that kills me.
I can't remember to forget her.
I constantly wonder about her, and the universe I lost.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 1:12 AM UTC
Swirls of green and peach adorn me.
Bubbles tickle at my lips.
Nectar purchased near absorbs me.
Where did you learn to do this?
Superficial little beverage--
Undercover influence.
On our mouths and used for leverage--
Well, we've never made much sense.
Four lips searching sugared contact,
Be it from a can or kiss.
Stretched between our every callback
Lay a smile or a sip.
I can't think what you would taste like
Without citrus as pretense.
Sweetened drinking was our limelight--
No, we never will make sense.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 12:42 PM UTC
Standing in
The grocery store
Dazing through
Colored produce
Her hands
Tangled
In her hair
Looking past
The people
Passing
Your ring
On her finger
A little lose
Wires
Of her hair
Clutching
Its turquoise
Edges
Looking
Like she
Is looking
For you
Like She never
Got the phone call
Like an answer
Never came
Like you only hid
In the tall grass
With a small
And laughing
Smile
Like if I shook
Her
I would be
The first
To tell her
Where are her words
I wonder
Falling
From her lips
From her
Mangled mind
Scattered and
Silently pleading
For rearrangement
For a callback
To say
It was all
A miscommunication
They didn’t need
Her daughter
For the role
To hear
It was just
A mistake
The store
Could make
A refund
Because this
Isn’t
What she bought
Standing there
I stare
At her
Staring
Almost blankly
Almost apathetic
Almost just barely
Uneasy
Contemplating:
If she pressed
Hard enough
Into her temples
Wrapping
Her fingers
Deep into
Her hair
If she
Could get it
To become
So quiet
No one around
Remained
Maybe
Time
Could pause
A moment
To breathe
A deep
Breath
Opening a door
For understanding
Overcome
With relief
Maybe then
She could
Press harder
Releasing
The reel
Of time
Letting it
Roll backward
I almost
Don’t want
To interrupt
Though I know
Her mind
Is not quiet
I place
My hand
On her
Shoulder
Softly
As if
To wake
A sleeping
Baby
I almost
Expect her
To turn
To me
Not knowing
Who I am
To tilt
Her head
Back
Her mouth
Falling open
And her face
To become
Wrought and
Wet
With distress
It doesn’t
She looks
At me
As if removed
From some place
Far from where
We stand
She says
She thought
She saw me
Walk in
I see
Your eyes
In her eyes
She sees
Your memories
In mine
We exchange
Words
Both
Looking
For you
I realize
She thought
She almost
Found you
Until turning
To see only
My face
The hurt
It carries
To her
Placing it
Back
Into the
Front seat
Of her
Memory
Though she
Had been
Far
From forgetting
Standing
Like two
Lovers left
By the same
Lady
An awkward
Almost drunken
Daze
Her heart
More broken
Than mine
It didn’t matter
How much
Either
Of us
Loved
Our lover
Left us
It grows
Silent
I tell her,
I need to go and return my mushrooms
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
Excuse me, can you spare a minute
To hear all about Chaus?
She's a raving, mad poetess
And she's looking for some love.
Now, please, if you'd just listen
You'll understand it'd be no chore
She'd listen to everything you have to say
If only because she wants to write once more.
I apologize in advance if she seems too desperate
It's just been awhile since she wrote something from the heart
So it'd be absolutely wonderful if you could make her love you
And the rend her heart irreparably, gruesomely apart.
I hope that didn't scare you away, it is a scary request
It's just, she can't find her inspiration
The future of a poetess, an author, rests on you
We've already tried games, *** and vacations.
We're more than willing to compromise
If it would help, maybe she'll be something someday
In fact, that'd be a lovely way to break her heart
Lure her in with love, then steal her money and run away!
Unfortunately, you must audition for a callback
Well, no matter, I'll leave you with a contract
Should you decide you want this job
You must leave her anything but intact.
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
every year
is a month
that happened twelve times
every month is a week
that happened four times
every week
is a day
that happened seven times
every day is an hour
that happened twenty four
every hour
is a minute
that happened sixty times
every minute
is a second that happened.
so this second
this tiny little fleeting thing—
my dear, that’s your minute, hour, day, week, month year—
just the replay, callback, repeat buttons are a little bit stuck
so everything happens a whole bunch
but in the end its all the same
so fight
with your dear god ****** life
to make them different.
repair yourself. unstick the replay repeat callback buttons
and dont let your time be a series of play backs.
make each one a new route through the park
a new journey
to a new star
a new poem
a new sentence
lose the order of time.
you have the power to make every second different from the next
you can turn each second into an experience
a journey
a song
a rhyme
a hug
a smile
a new friend.
so dont let each year be a year
make it a scrapbook
of the world and you
a constant evolving friendship
with endless things to do.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
On hold, I'm on hold
if I may be so bold
I hate being on hold....
feels like you are being so cold
leaving me on hold....
On hold, I'm on hold
my beard has grown mold
while I'm on hold
Sold my living soul
to get off being on hold
Now I'm feeling bold
worth my weight in gold
poke you in the eye scold you for your lie
Tale all told
of me being on hold
rhyme and reason rolled into your sneezing
while I'm on hold
then my provider be dammed sixfold
cutting off my call in a stranglehold
On hold, I was on hold
goes beyond the threshold
lost my foothold
gotta callback to be
put on hold, on hold, on hold
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 12:08 PM UTC
Yes, I’m the one who did it.
I put it there to remind you what once was.
And what could have been.
Now it’s just a melody, which falls on deaf ears.
It could have been a symbol of hope, if you wanted it to.
It could have been a callback to a simpler time, if you wanted it to.
It could have been a pleasant smile, if you wanted it to.
Of course, you didn’t.
You’d much rather have a loud voice in your head.
Or a knight on a horse without legs.
You couldn’t love a bird missing a few feathers.
I hope you’re happy, no I don’t.
The wall will dry and crack, but the mark will stay.
It will serve as a beacon, a lantern for the future.
What once could have been a show of imperishable love,
Is reduced to a simple drawing on a plain white wall.
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC
I am made of wood and nails.
I am made of porcelain and a mirror.
I am made of mattresses and late night thoughts.
I am a flower who's through tears you water and through words you feed.
My petals will rise up to the rafters to give you a life to lean on
I will not boo you, or creep insecurities up through your feet and into your lungs, it is my soul that is the curtain that hides you from the misery, my echo that gives you the final callback, so callback the audience and give it one more try.
Stage fright? It is I who should fear you.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
If I will it,
Will it?
Mold it into the shape of kisses,
Send it on the Winter wind,
Will whatever it wishes.
Stop in time,
The snowflaked memories of my mind,
Zoom in past the reflection of the sign
That we passed and then doubled back.
Wind up Wind down,
Rise up, Slow up,
Follow the tug,
Follow the pocket square,
Dressed to the nines,
Am proud to be with ya.
Zoom back out,
Push through unshoveled snow
Push through the front door
Push into my arms
Pushed against the wall.
Stop in time,
This moment is perfect,
Nothing could change it,
No way to frame it,
Remember it hard,
Recall every detail:
His smile, his beard, his coattails,
The bits of snow left on his coat still--
because the moment he saw me we were On.
The feel of his coat against my skin,
Breathing in the smell of him,
Then we tasted
Each other so close under the covers
We made it
About each other and for one another
Our bond reached out and shook us
And there was nothing to say when it took us
We both knew
You knew what I knew
We both knew.
Now when I send tiptoe kisses
You feel them.
When you send me your embrace
I feel that too.
I can hear you in my heart and it sings back
Whistles back a callback or two.
We only have time.
We have memories to align
With our presence,
Stamp our mark.
The energy of us
Leaves an imprint
Like ghost tiptoe kisses
And ghost long embraces
Ghost hearing your voice
and the timbre and warmth
Just as present.
I couldn't be happier
Except
If I could will it,
I would will it--
So that we don't have to sustain on
Ghost tiptoe kisses
and ghost long embraces
Anymore.
Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 6:19 PM UTC
Here I sit, with a long face
Waiting for your urgent call
You hung up on me, last time
Don't know what's wrong
A callback message pops-in
Your phone is out of reach
Fear grips me from within
The network seems at glitch
Finally, the door bell rings
And I rush to answer it
There you were, blank faced
Not wanting to rest and sit
You paniced as you talked
One of us was surely dead
In the past weeks accident
But I claimed alive instead
None of us wanted to believe
That we parted from each other
Both of us broke into tears
And I realised, I was another
I didn't survive the wrath
In his arms, I lay dead
A change of expression hit me hard
I left him helpless and sad
I would never wait for a call
As I am leaving your side forever
My death has created a wall
Please don't forget me, ever...
©sim
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 11:34 PM UTC